I was 16 years old on September 11, 2001. I, like anyone over the age of 6 years old at the time, remember the exact moment when I was told about the terrorist attacks. I remember the sadness, confusion, and rage felt all across the country. I remember the helplessness my family and I felt sitting in the living room together watching the events unfold for days on end.
Helplessness. I don’t do helplessness very well. I’m a fixer and a control freak, and helplessness is an inability to right a wrong, a total lack of control. I sat there, with my family, and felt I needed to do something. I needed to help.
That’s when “disaster” seeped into my bones and became my passion. I wish it was a better story or even a unique one, but 9/11 is it. As an owner of a business specifically designed to help people recover from disaster, I’m often asked if I am a disaster survivor myself. It’s a logical question. Generally speaking our passions are driven by life experience and my passion has always been the field of disaster. You don’t start a business and work 60-80 hours a week at it unless you’re passionate about what you’re doing. And I am passionate about helping people recovery from disaster. I’ve never lost a home or a loved one to disaster, but after 9/11 I felt the need to help and within a few months of turning 18 years old I became an emergency medical technician., hoping that as a responder I would feel less helpless and be able to take control in times of crisis.
The irony is that I became an EMT to seize control of situations that are by their very nature uncontrollable. Becoming an EMT didn’t stop me from feeling helpless when there wasn’t much I could do. Like in 2005, when I stayed up all night watching as Hurricane Katrina destroyed thousands of lives along the Gulf Coast. Or when I sat in southern California in 2007, listening to the stories of good people that lost their homes to wildfires. Or, when I visited Louisiana towns in 2008 destroyed by Hurricanes Gustav and Ike. Or, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2009.
I never fully understood the plight of the disaster survivors I worked with until cancer. Prior to my diagnosis, I watched other people’s tragedies as someone who was healthy, someone who had never lost an immediate family member, and someone who got to go home each night to the comfort of my bed. Even though I offered help, and never felt like I could do enough, at the end of the day I was always alright. I never understood how it felt to have your world turned upside down in one second, destroying life as you know it. I never knew the frustration of being held back, when all you wanted to do was move forward. I never understood why it was so hard to ask for and accept help, even though I’m as stubborn and prideful as they come. I never knew anything until cancer, really.
Then, I battled cancer for four years. Four years of doctor’s appointments, treatments, tests, and procedures. Four years of baldness, pain, nausea, and about every other side effect you can think of. Four years of frustration, anger, sadness, and helplessness.
Now I understand.
I understand that helplessness is a loss of control, a loss of expectation. It’s meant to push you to the bitter edge, to force you to recognize your own strength. But, it’s also meant to force you to recognize that you aren’t alone.
Here’s the thing: we all feel helpless at some point. Whether you’re the person being diagnosed with cancer or their best friend, you feel helpless. Whether you lost your home to a flood or you’re watching on TV wishing there was something you could do, you feel helpless. And there’s only one thing you can do to eliminate that feeling…take action.
That’s why I’m passionate about disaster and that’s why I’m passionate about Firelily. Firelily is a way to eliminate the feeling of helplessness, whether you’re the person who experienced a disaster first hand or whether you’re the person sitting on your couch, watching the events unfold. It wasn’t designed just as a fundraising platform but as a donations one as well. I know you’re thinking that’s the same thing, but I don’t think of it that way. Firelily was built to help the donors just as much to help the fundraisers. That way, we can all take a little bit more control and we can all feel a little less helpless.
Am I survivor? Of course. I’m a survivor of this thing we call life. We all are. We can all relate to feeling helpless at one point or another and in the end, that’s what connects us.
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